


A Crash Course In Failure

by letbygones



Series: Growing Pains [2]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: BDSM training wheels, Dom/sub, Domesticity, Finding edges, Fluffy disappointing porn, Light Humiliation, M/M, Post-Canon, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letbygones/pseuds/letbygones
Summary: Even now, Galo Thymos must learn how to sayno.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Series: Growing Pains [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605982
Comments: 7
Kudos: 121





	A Crash Course In Failure

**Author's Note:**

> While their Scene is entirely consensual, Galo just plain doesn't enjoy it. Nothing extreme or super squicky ahead, just an exploration of calling it quits when you need to.

Meis knew chicken-fried steak. Like really, _intimately_ knew it, which checked out— he'd grown up straddling Galveston and La Marque, before moving on to kiss Dallas County's swamp ass. 

So when Galo Thymos, _helplessly_ propped up on the couch seven weeks after his last surgery, made a face after being served some real _primo_ quality food, Meis held his tongue. 

"You don't have to eat it," he shrugged, taking a seat on the carpet opposite Lio. "But don't punch a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever."

"Don't look?" Galo corrected him.

"We won't," Gueira snorted from the lawn chair in front of the tv.

A click of the tongue, and they all shut up. Lio had his palm raised to signify he wanted silence, and maybe the bottle of Cholula, wherever it went.

"Galo, eat your dinner. Don't be rude."

"I will! It's probably super tasty! It's just—"

Lio clicked his tongue again. Galo ignored him and speared his meat with a fork, letting it hang mid-air for better inspection.

"Like. What is this?"

Meis answered with his mouth full. "'Sfood, man, just eat it."

"Is it chicken or is it steak?"

"Since when were you picky? Figured you'd stuff anything in your mouth the way you eat," Gueira groaned. He quickly shifted his attention and shouted a Jeopardy answer at a grainy Alex Trebek. It was incorrect.

"I just want to know what it is, that's all!" Galo huffed. "You guys have what, like, chicken-fried-chicken and steak-fried-steak? What's the difference?"

_"And for the Daily Double..."_

Lio craned his neck upwards— he was sat on the floor beneath Galo, but he decided better of it, and shifted onto his knees. Wordlessly, with a look that said _we're done here,_ he reached over with his own utensils and cut Galo's food for him. 

Slice, stab, swoosh. "Open up."

Galo grunted, heat rising high on his face. "Fine! Okay!" he said, before biting down the forkful with all the cooperation of a kindergartner. Lio held eye contact with him until he started to chew.

"Kerouac! Jack Kerouac! _Who is Kerouac!_ " Gueira shouted at the tv, rumbling his fists against the chair in a drumroll.

Galo swallowed, delighted. Stubborn. "It's really good," he frowned. "You're a good cook, Meis!"

A balled-up napkin hit him in the face.

Galo moved to retaliate, but Meis wasn't paying attention to him. 

Lio, on the other hand, was staring with an unreadable emotion. His eyes were focused— tired, dark-circled, but sharp and observant— and Galo realized just how wide his pupils had blown out.

"What's up," Galo whispered, right before Meis won $800 for something about aqueducts.

Lio didn't answer him, but he flicked his eyes back down to Galo's plate. His pretty lashes followed the movement of his own hands. A second later, and he held another bite up to Galo's lips.

Neither of them spoke. 

Galo's pulse jumped. He was grateful for the privacy of his own heart rate now, after being hooked up to a traitorous machine for eight days.

He opened his mouth, slid the meat off of Lio's fork, and let his lips drag against the metal as it left him.

_Oh,_ he realized, gently reaching out to graze Lio's elbow in gratitude. 

He could _so_ win this.

\---

  
"Hands," Lio demanded, and Galo stacked his forearms neatly behind his back.

The steady stream of rope pushed past his skin, over and over again, until Lio was satisfied (or ran out of length? Galo wasn't sure). Gloved fingers tucked beneath the tie and gave a gentle tug.

"Feel okay?" he asked, double-checking around areas he knew were still troublesome for Galo. Arms were usually fine. Legs, hips, and contortions of any kind were still off-limits.

"All good!" Galo nodded, wriggling his fingers for emphasis.

Bondage was still weird for him, but it was a good kind of weird. He'd never been one for _you can't_ s and _you shouldn't_ s, so the limiting range of mobility he'd suffered since the accident had steeped him in depression. It'd been fine at first— doable, uncomfortable, manageable— but the loss of his daily routine really hurt. He'd even made a goal tracker to prove to himself that he was getting better, but...

Things don't always happen the happy way.

But when Lio had him all bundled up like a Christmas roast beef ( _you're not wrong,_ Lio deadpanned), he felt... good. The restrictions were on _his_ terms. There was a reason to stay still— not for his injuries, not to make himself smaller, or to behave for _anyone else,_ other than Lio.

And every bit he dedicated to Lio, he knew, was also a dedication to himself. 

_You deserve it,_ Lio had told him.

"Do you need anything before we get started?" his partner asked, voice free of lust. He never forgot to be boring, especially when boring meant _safe._

"Nah," he answered, smiling.

Galo loved the danger that was Lio Fotia. Even more, he loved it when the danger left, and all that remained was sanctuary.

And that's why he let him push him forward onto the bed, quick and unexpected enough to knock him off balance, unable to use his arms to break his fall— 

Lio caught him, inches before his face collided with the mattress.

"That's for being a brat over dinner," he said, his voice edged with satisfaction. Gently, he lowered Galo's bound form the rest of the way down, and settled him softly onto their shared comforter.

Galo caught his breath. "I wasn't being a brat, I was being serious! I don't _get_ Southern food—"

"Not that," Lio rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and licked a stripe right up the center of Galo's nape. "You were totally hamming it up when I fed you."

Goosebumps broke the surface of Galo's skin. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat.

"Nn-yeah, okay, that was me being a brat," he chuckled, sucking in air as Lio bit him between the shoulderblades. His hands wriggled in their confines.

"One-to-ten?"

"Four," Galo answered, turning his face to the side.

Lio bit harder.

"Ah- seven, damn!" Galo grunted. "What are you, a rattlesnake?"

"What do you think all the buckles and chains are for? The sound gives people fair warning," he hummed into Galo's skin, before tugging his head up by the roots of his hair. Galo keened.

"So. As we discussed. The instant you feel something wrong, especially _here,_ or _here_ —" Lio said, gently pressing against Galo's neck on either side— "You call red. You call _yellow,_ for that matter. Yes?"

"Yeah, yeah," Galo muttered, still strung up into Lio's hand by the hair. "Just don't yank me too hard, I guess."

A moment passed, and Lio lightened up his grip, letting his hand uncurl into a kinder shape. Galo was admittedly disappointed. 

"I mean, you can still play rough," Galo tried. "I don't care, the doctor cares."

Lio removed his hand entirely.

"You _should_ care," he told Galo. "It's your body. I shouldn't be the one deciding your limits for you."

"Aren't you the Dom, though?" Galo snarked, before he could stop himself.

There was a moment of silence, and Lio's weight behind him shifted backwards off the mattress.

"I think we're done here."

Galo's heart dropped into his stomach.

"No— Lio, babe, no. I'm sorry. It was a joke," he tried, flopping sideways to get a better look at him. Lio almost looked _weary_. Galo's face grew hotter.

"No, I don't think it was," Lio shrugs with an air of graceful indignation. "You clearly haven't listened to a word I've said about this."

"I have," Galo quips back. "Look, I'll watch out for myself, okay? I know it's my job too."

"Then act like it," Lio says, staring him down as hotly as he did the day they met. "I refuse to bring you harm in any way that doesn't benefit us. Do you understand me, Galo Thymos?"

"Yes," he says, and the rope around him didn't feel so comforting anymore. 

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, _I understand you,_ " Galo spat out, ashamed of himself. 

It wasn't right, he thought. This was supposed to blow off steam, not _create_ it—

But Lio's eyes softened, and it was clear he wanted to make things right. He nudged Galo's foot, to let him know he was still here with him. 

"Hey. Good," Lio sighed, breathing out the remnants of his temper. "Okay. Do you- oh."

Galo tracked Lio's eyes down to his own erection.

_Oh._

Lio didn't move back onto the mattress— in fact, he stepped away a pace, raising a happy eyebrow.

"Do you always get this hard when you're wrong about things?" Lio asked, teasing, and Galo felt those words go straight to his groin.

"Only when you're the one proving it to me," he bit back, after he saw the pull of a smile on Lio's face. 

The smaller man hummed approvingly. "Is that so." He stepped toward Galo once more, this time from a different side of the bed, and gently returned his hand to his hair.

"You'll appreciate it, then, if I ask you to beg for forgiveness?" Lio said, voice low. "I need to be able to trust you just as much as you trust me. How can I be sure you'll give me that?"

Galo found himself grinding into the mattress, as softly as his body would let him, as Lio scratched and pinched at his buzzcut.

"I promise," Galo said, turning his head to meet Lio's legs— he was standing, so his face was out of range. "Please. Let me try."

_Every bit he dedicated to Lio, he dedicated to himself._

He had to repeat that in his brain.

And he watched, curiously, as Lio unzipped his pants, freeing his own semi-hard cock in front of Galo's mouth.

_Every bit he dedicated to Lio._

"Then ask me to forgive you," Lio said, gently scooping Galo's cheek into his gloved palms. "Maybe you'll feel better for it."

Something in Galo squirmed as he was filled with _want._ "What do you mean by that?" he asked with a smirk, but it was all for show.

"You're upset with yourself," Lio caught on, tracing his thumb against Galo's lips. "You always do this. You never stay mad at me, even if we disagree on something."

Galo let Lio press into his mouth, his thumb holding down the center of his tongue with a steady pressure. Lio rubbed against it, slow and soothing. Galo felt his eyelids close.

"Galo."

"Ahh-hah?" he answered lazily, tasting cool leather and his own pooling saliva.

"Am I wrong?"

He furrowed his brows. Despite everything Lio was doing to turn him on, the sensation of his soft polyester shorts against his junk was beginning to annoy him.

Galo realized, in that instant, that he was uncomfortable in more than one way. He didn't like being scrutinized— hell, he didn't like being conscientious of his actions on the best of days— but something about this, between the rope against his arm hair and Lio boring into him, emotionally and physically— between being _so_ close to sucking him off, _needing_ to give Lio that satisfaction, and being denied the ability to do so until he acknowledged his _shortcomings_ —

Galo pulled back, squeezing his eyes tighter, as though they hadn't been shut to begin with.

"I don't think I'm having fun," he admitted, a string of drool catching on his chin. He shook his head. "You're right. I'm—" he blinked, and settled for staring at the mattress. "I'm frustrated. I don't know how to give you what you want. I already ruined the mood earlier."

Slowly, Lio bent down to be his equal. His eyes searched Galo's face, and surprisingly, he smiled.

"You just gave me what I wanted," he breathed, before leaning in to kiss Galo's forehead. "You self-advocated. You were honest with me. That's the kind of limit I'm looking for."

Under his rope harness, Galo shrugged.

"Is it? It doesn't feel very... you know. Sexy. Or good."

Lio ran his fingers up through Galo's hair. "What does it feel like," he asked, a statement more than a question.

"I don't know. Like I let you down. Like I fucked up again."

"Get used to that," Lio replied, turning Galo's escaping face to meet his gaze once more. "Get used to making me upset. Disappoint me. Make me cry. I don't want a sterile version of you, Galo."

Lio was not his enemy, anymore. Lio was not a coworker, or a civilian in need of saving. Lio was not Kray Foresight.

Galo slowly nodded. "Okay." He let his head drop back down, and Lio's hands moved to cradle it. "I love you," he whimpered in resignation. "I totally just lost my stiffy."

Lio laughed, a full-body antithesis to their moment of seriousness.

"Well, it's up to you if you want it back. We don't have to keep going tonight, but you didn't ruin the mood forever, contrary to what you may think," he said, pressing another kiss to Galo's cheek. "If anything, I'm as hot as ever for you, Galo Thymos. I love you too."

And after a few minutes of rearranging, de-roping, and making sure Galo's arms were in working order, they found themselves kissing every part of each other that still welcomed the contact.

\---

  
"What the hell is on my fries," Gueira grunted, rotating his dinner plate suspiciously. 

Another Thursday at Lio's place, and it was Galo's turn to cook. Depending on who you asked, it was "boys' night", "thirsty thursday", or "a mandantory PTA meeting".

"It's good! Just eat it!" Galo beamed, while Lio tried not to expose his amusement.

"This looks like upchuck. Why do Californians do this to themselves?"

"We got that in Texas too," Meis smirked. "Vegas. All over, now."

"I made it!" Galo says, self-approving his own masterwork. "It's like, three ingredients. Just try it."

"Boss, eat the upchuck for us."

"Sure," Lio shrugged, and took a forkful of Galo's off-brand Animal Fries. "'Sgood."

"Ew—"

"That's nasty, man!"

"I think it's just salad dressing," Lio mused, before holding up a bite for Galo, who didn't hesitate to indulge this time. 

They smiled at each other.

Every bit of happiness he dedicated to Lio, he knew, he dedicated to himself. And though the learning curve was awkward and uncomfortable, together, they'd share every disappointment.

Gueira flipped to a pre-recorded episode of _Wheel Of Fortune._

Galo Thymos was ready to court discomfort again.

**Author's Note:**

> In which Promepolis sits somewhere between Nevada and California, in my canon!
> 
> Also ig Alex Trebek and Pat Sajack are both immortal now... oops


End file.
